


Whenever You're Ready

by klloydbanks



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 06:48:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16383338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klloydbanks/pseuds/klloydbanks
Summary: the sort of angsty david/patrick high school au no one asked fora companion piece to the song Surrender by Natalie Taylor which makes me cry every time I listen





	Whenever You're Ready

David hated homecoming. Just another overblown celebration for some idiotic roid ragers’ ability to throw a ball or catch a ball or kick a ball or whatever the hell sport they were celebrating this year. For their school it meant a mandatory rally during home room with an optional dance to follow in the evening. Most years David skipped both events on what he vehemently insisted (and the administration begrudgingly accepted) were feminist grounds, declaring that the school was feeding in to the misogynistic culture that breeds societal violence and that it was bullshit that their school’s female athletes weren’t treated nearly as well as the boys. In reality, as much as he genuinely believed in equality, he just couldn’t handle that volume of laboured happiness without feeling ill.

This year was different though. Firstly, he was graduating come Spring and he was beginning to worry that he wouldn’t look socially engaged enough in his college applications to appeal to the masses. Secondly, his best friend Stevie had recently started dating one of the air headed jock straps on the baseball team, no the football team… basketball, maybe. His name was Jake and he was sexy enough that David had to admit he’d even thought about corrupting his principles on occasion to get with him.

While Stevie was usually all for his semi genuine girl power protest of the event, evidently she was dick drunk and had decided that she wanted to attend to “support Jake” despite David’s (correct) surmising that she was attending to ensure Jake didn’t end up distracted by a cheerleader with bright, shiny pom-poms. To be fair, he did have the attention span of a Dalmatian so it was hard to fault her. His third and most predominant reason for attending was more complicated.

His name was Patrick. At first glance he was another of their school’s seemingly endless line up of idiot jocks. He played baseball in the summer and hockey in the winter and he rounded it all out by playing acoustic guitar at house parties to pick up girls like the insufferable douche bag he was. Only he wasn’t. He was smart and hardworking, funny and exceedingly kind. He was attractive in a way that was difficult for David to dwell on; that clean, charming, old Hollywood type handsome that would fit easily into any time period.

David hated him. Not for any reason that would hold up on closer inspection, it was all thinly veiled excuses about shallow depths, never having to work for anything and smiling his way through life. In truth, one he rarely even admitted to himself, he hated Patrick for the simple reason that his friend Rachel had seen him first and loved him first, had her heart broken and now he was forbidden by some deep seeded understanding of loyalty and friendship. David hated him in a way that one hates everything one also covets, with carefully practiced ambivalence and, when pushed on the matter, quick and ruthless cruelty.

He could admit, maybe just in the privacy of his own mind, that he’d come to the rally, dragged himself up to the back bench of the bleachers and sat in judgemental silence behind his dark, reflective, designer sunglasses so that he could watch the way the morning light touched the delicate skin of Patrick’s throat and hear the unencumbered and carefree way he laughed, see the way that laugh spread like an infection to the fortunate bystanders who found themselves in his orbit. Patrick was magnetic and David thought his heart must be a magnet for all the pain it caused being so far away from him.

Just as David’s mood began to turn foul, sinking him back into the comfort of his rehearsed disdain, he saw Patrick’s gaze scan the crowd, searching somewhat aimlessly until-

“Shit.” David muttered and immediately turned away. Patrick’s eyes had landed with heavy precision on David and David had snapped his gaze away in response. After a few tense seconds, palms suddenly sweaty and heart in his throat, David risked a glance back over to see Patrick still watching him, a slow and steady and disgustingly self-satisfied smile spreading across his features. David decided very abruptly in that moment that he’d had quite enough of homecoming.

He made his excuses to Stevie, telling her he’d had about all he could take and that he’d be going down to the equipment shed to get high if she wanted to join him. Stevie, normally not one to blink twice at free weed, remained determinedly at Jake’s side, shrugging up at him like she too was confused by this turn of events.

The equipment shed was a small concrete structure out behind their enormous gym that housed all the out of season or out of rotation sports gear. Because the regularly used and brand new stuff found its way into the organized back room of the gym itself, the shed was a barely used haven for delinquents looking for privacy.

David made the short trek to the shed hyper vigilant as always to his surroundings, ensuring that no one was watching where he went. Of course with everyone distracted as they were, he probably could’ve announced it without repercussion. Once there he cleared space in the middle of the cool, musty room and dragged a pile of Velcro-edged, cherry red mats to the floor. Once his makeshift bed was complete, David laid himself down on one side, crossed his feet at the ankles and pulled the soft hood of his black sweater down over his eyes.

It wasn’t 10 minutes later when he heard the door scrape open and then slam shut clumsily. David didn’t need to open his eyes to know who had followed him out to the shed. He could hear the deep breath being drawn in and pushed back out. He could smell the fresh, spicy cologne stark against the existing scent of rusting metal and collected dust. He felt the sun-warmed body settle on to the mat beside him, felt the long, elegant fingers push the hood away from his forehead, rough calluses dragging away the lush cashmere.

“This is the last time.” He heard himself whisper, eyes finally dragging open to take in the patient, soft smile that David himself seemed to own exclusively.

“Why do say that every time?” Patrick whispered back, teasing laughter giving his words levity despite how serious his eyes looked. “You know it hurts my feelings.”

David didn’t dignify that with a response, choosing instead to let his body relax while Patrick’s fingers made their way down the side of his face, across his neck, down his chest, finally coming to rest at the delicate juncture just above his heavy, ornate belt buckle. This is how it always went; Patrick would take them into dangerous territory but he would always wait for David to push them past the point of no return. It infuriated and thrilled David in equal measures.

“ _Fuck you, Patrick Brewer_ ” is what he screamed in his own mind, dark and vehement.

“Please” is what he breathed into the air between them, soft and desperate.

The word barely had time to settle into the otherwise stifling quiet of the room before Patrick’s mouth descended to meet his own. In public David controlled everything that happened between them. He was distant and composed and so fucking cool that it was perfectly believable he wouldn’t give the time of day to someone like Patrick with his uncomplicated and easily earned affection. When they were alone though, Patrick became a different animal all together. He was focused and possessive and it made David feel like he couldn’t breathe for wanting him so bad.

David felt a violent rush of butterflies spread all over his body like wildfire. The tips of his fingers were tingling where they scraped at the fine hair on the back of Patrick’s neck and he could feel Patrick’s hand hot like a brand where it slid under him to grip his ass in a way he knew would leave a bruise. _Good,_ he thought to himself, he wanted to hold on to the feeling for as long as he could.

Patrick shifted so that he was propped up between his legs with his elbows on either side of David’s head. David’s legs fell open to give him better access without conscious thought, likely an instinct born of how many times he’d allowed this to happen, of how much time he’d allowed himself to be in this exact position. Patrick slid his body against David’s and there was another familiar moment of David accepting that they were probably perfect for each other, at least if the way they fit together had anything to do with it.

They came together and came apart like this. Patrick panting heavily into David’s neck, David stripping away belts and jeans until they were lined up, skin on skin, and David had the perverse thought that it felt like coming home. He felt Patrick bite at the sharp angle of his jaw where it was thrown back from the sensation coursing through him.

David wrapped one large hand around both of their cocks at the same time as Patrick wrapped one large hand around David’s throat. There was no danger, no pressure or urgency to the gesture, just a deep and deliberate declaration of control. It immediately set his blood burning and he was too close too soon.

“I want you to fuck me.” He heard himself mumble distantly. It was the truth but he hadn’t meant to say it.

“We can’t, I don’t have anything.” Patrick sounded amused which pissed David off. He bit Patrick’s swollen lower lip harder than necessary the next time their mouths came together. “Jesus fucking Christ David.” Patrick gave an aggressive and involuntary jerk of his hips and David could tell he was close too.

There were too many things he wanted to say in that moment. He wanted to whisper all the filthy things he thinks about when he’s alone in bed and send Patrick over the edge. He also desperately wanted to tell Patrick all the impractical things he thinks about when he’s alone in bed, all the romantic, idealistic bullshit he lets himself dream about. He knew if he let himself say it, Patrick would do anything he could to make it happen for them. He didn’t let himself say it. Instead he said, “Come for me.” And Patrick did, David following shortly after.

It was several minutes before either of them moved, Patrick’s weight settling heavy and welcome over David’s body. It felt secure and intimate in a way that he desperately needed in that moment.

“David, just be with me. It’s what we both want.” Patrick whispered into David’s ear, clearly still riding high from the mutual orgasms. It was a pitcher of ice water dumped all over the peaceful moment and David felt himself tense suddenly.

“It’s not that simple and you know it. What would I tell Rachel?” Patrick sighed heavily and rolled to the side. They each cleaned themselves up as best they could while David went on. “She’s one of my best friends Patrick and you obliterated her. She had your entire future planned out down to your kids names.”

“You wanted me to keep lying to her? David, the minute you kissed me I knew that was it.” David felt his face heat, shame flooding his system at the not so distant memory. It had been six months since that night. Six months of sneaking around, six months of lying to all his friends. Six months of crushing guilt. Six months of complete and comprehensive happiness. “I want to stop pretending that we haven’t already talked about applying to the same schools and half jokes about maybe getting a place together. I want to take you home to meet my family and I want to spread you out on my childhood bed and fuck you slow, face to face.”

“Patrick-“ David could feel his resolve wavering in the face of how badly he wanted that for himself.

“No David, enough. You can’t damn us both to be unhappy forever out of some sense of misplaced guilt.” Patrick sat up and faced him, pulling David up by his shoulder and letting his hand rest in the soft hair at the back of David’s neck.

“Forever? Come on, you’ll get over this.” David tried to make it sound light but he found that when it came out, he sounded heart broken and desolate.

“I love you David. I am in love with you.” Patrick said quietly into the stillness of the room. David’s breath caught and he felt his cheeks burn and his eyes fill with burning tears. “I don’t need you to say it back, I know you love me too.” He was not wrong; David felt the truth of the words settle into his bones in the same way it felt to hear a song he’d memorized the words to years ago. He nodded, feeling the tears give way and slip down his cheeks. Patrick caught them with his thumbs and brushed them away while his palms cradled David’s overheated neck.

“David please, I can’t do this anymore.” Patrick begged. “I would do anything to make you happy but I can’t just sit back and let you destroy us.”

Beneath the surface of paper thin excuses about Rachel and the shitty way they got together, David could feel the absolute need to be with the person he loved at odds with the need to protect himself from being crushed. He could feel the cold weight of his self preservation and the way it kept him from the basking in the warm light of his love for Patrick.

As he slowly vacillated, he watched Patrick’s face fall in the dim light of the shed. Patrick knew him so well, knew that the self preservation was a tangible obstacle and one he’d never stood much of a chance against anyways. He felt Patrick’s hands slide away from his skin and fall to his sides. He heard the soft exhale and watched the acceptance of defeat settle heavy across his features. Patrick was giving up, he was watching Patrick give up.

David allowed himself one final moment of indecision: surety or love, safety or happiness.

When he kissed Patrick it felt just like the first time, messy and desperate and pleading and electric. They were both crying but neither of them cared much. He dragged his lips through the salty tear tracks on Patrick’s cheeks and whispered, “I love you. I do, I love you. Please, please don’t leave me.” Patrick kissed him again and it felt like forgiveness and patience and everything he loved most about him.

David knew himself and knew that this would not be easy. Even with his capitulation it would be an uphill battle and this would not be the last time that Patrick would have to fight David’s own demons for them. As they left behind the dusty shed and stepped back into the light, fingers lightly shaking where they were intertwined, he tried to remind himself that if Patrick had wanted easy, he never would’ve kissed him back.


End file.
